The girl who said she felt broken hearted.
Bad vibes started catching on when I heard the high get her.
I now know when all I ask for is peace, my inner self kills from the inside, and out.
Different type of you and a different type of I.
My og asked if I believed in god.
If heaven is what it seems, we would not be trapped by god.
Our home is just a home, but we create artificial memories between these walls.
We pay for all wasted time with our cuddled up senses.
I want to thank god, but for all I can say is "I am god."
Created this place in my head where I can form sentences and manipulate into becoming words I can pronunciate and ship out from between my lips.
Made by me, yet conceived by thee.
As a body with no trail to follow, I must create memories.
You and I.
Binge eating with a side of smiles never felt so relieving.
YOU ARE READING
Thursday
PoetryThe depths of my mind and dialogue of it all. My thoughts. My fakeness. My lies. My confessions. My Raw mental conversations. My weakness. My complicated life. The nonsense that creeps up in my head when I'm thinking. There is no need to understan...
